The Undertaker

“No, but I thought we might break the bunk or knock the train off the tracks.”

“You did knock my train off the tracks,” she kissed me on the chest, softly and gently. “And I don't want to create an ego problem, but it's never been like that.”

“You are amazing,” I told her.

“Yeah, I am, aren't I? And I'll bet if we give it another try, I can even be more amazing.”

She was and we were.

Later, we lay there in the bunk wrapped tightly around each other, as if we couldn't get enough. The window shade was up and the bright, early morning sunlight fell across us. The sky was a clear, high blue, with white clouds blowing past. I couldn't see Terri's face, but I knew she was there, watching, happy for me, happy for us, happy for all of us.

“She's your biggest fan,” I told Sandy as I looked out the window.

Sandy raised her head, looked at me, then followed my eyes out the window and thought it over. “Terri?” she asked in a small voice. I nodded. Slowly, Sandy looked back out the window again and pulled the sheet up over her. “You kept saying her name in your sleep last night.”

“It's not like that.”

“It's not huh?” She turned back and looked at me, our faces only inches apart. “Because you really creeped me out there for a second.”

“All I know, is that all the guilts are gone now. In the hospital in LA, when she was dying, she told me I had to find someone else after she was gone. She knew I'm a one-girl-kinda-guy and how hard this would be hard for me. That's why I know she's happy now.”

“Good,” she said as she kissed me again. “But next time we do this, would you mind if I pull the shade down? I can get as kinky as the next girl, but this bunk is only so big and even I have my limits.”

We both laughed, but I swore I heard Terri laughing along with us. “Like I said, Peter,” I heard her say to me. “She's smart and she's funny, and you need her. Now, goodbye Peter, goodbye. You don't need me anymore.”

At 7:15, we slipped the menu under the door and took a break.

“This love stuff burns a lot of calories and I'm starved,” Sandy said as we ordered most of the items on the menu. When Phillip came back at 7:45, I opened the door far enough to take the big tray from him.

“You can relax, sir,” he said. “Ain't nobody been askin’ ‘bout nobody or nothin’.”

“Great, Phillip.” I handed him cash for the breakfasts and a big tip. “We have a long stop in Albany, don't we?”

“Yes, sir, just before noon, usually forty-five minutes. Ya'll can get off and stretch a bit if you like, while they switch the other cars to the New York train.”

I locked the door and turned around with the tray. Sandy had grabbed two towels from the shower. She had tied one around her waist and the other hung around her neck so the ends covered her chest. “Sorry.” she shrugged as she pulled out the small fold-down table and sat on the end of the lower bunk. “I'm too hungry to get dressed.”

We sat opposite each other eating, but as the minutes passed, she grew strangely quiet. “What's wrong?” I asked her.

“There are some things I need to tell you.” Her eyes never left her plate.

“No you don't.”

“Yes, I do. At my aunt's, back in Chicago, I really wanted to make love to you.”

“I know that, but it would have been sex, not love.”

“I know that too. This isn't easy for me to say, so please let me get it all out. The last couple of years have been bad. Nothing was working for me. I was lonely. I was desperate for a little warmth, a little affection. I had started drinking again, drinking a lot, and I knew I couldn't get much lower. So, if a one-night stand with a nice guy like you was the best I could get, I wasn't going to turn it down.” She raised her head and looked at me, tears running down her cheeks. “But I have never done anything like that before, Peter, I swear it,” she said, trembling. “Never.”

“Sandy, don't blame yourself. God knows, I wanted to, but if I had…”

“I know. But when you rejected me, I was crushed. I was angry, lonely, and very depressed.” Tears were running down her cheeks, and she looked like a small, very scared little girl. I reached over with my napkin and wiped the tears away. “On the El, when I told you there was nothing for me to go back to in Chicago, I really meant it. I hate to use the “S” word, but if you had dumped me downtown yesterday or over on State, I probably would have killed myself.” She kissed my hand and gave me a pained smile. “I'm over all that now. I am, really. So, if I'm still here, driving you crazy today, you have no one to blame but yourself.”

“We really are a pair, aren't we?” I said. “I talk to ghosts and you're suicidal.”

“Not anymore.” She touched my hand. “So you can keep all your memories of Terri, and you can talk to her any time you want… as long as I can pull the shade down every now and then.”